by Selena Blake
His hair was different though. Just as dark, but tamed by a haircut and perhaps his fingers. That had once been her fingers’ job.
A tear plopped against the side of her hand, just above the knuckle of her thumb. She wiped it away.
Stop crying.
He wasn’t worth crying over.
Haven’t you already used up all the tears he was alloted?
“V?”
Avery’s voice jarred Valencia out of her fog. She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks. But before she could make it to her feet, Avery was squatting down next to her, her big eyes wide with concern.
“I don’t need to ask if you’re okay,” Avery said quietly and sat down, carefully arranging her dress. She stretched her legs out and took off her silver and gold mask.
Valencia was furious with herself for crying, for feeling anything at all where Dameon was concerned. She glanced up at the ceiling and blinked rapidly.
“So that’s him.”
Avery didn’t need to put a name or label to it. Valencia knew exactly what and who she meant. During a moment of weakness, and honesty, Valencia had told Avery about her marriage that wasn’t. The wedding that almost was.
What she hadn’t told Avery was that she and Dameon had the kind of love that lasted an eternity. At least, she’d thought they had.
How did one recover from that?
Valencia sighed. How could she be back to that question; hadn’t she asked it a thousand times over the years? The only answer she’d come up with was keeping herself busy. If not with business or parties, she would head to the spa and hope for solace.
“That’s him,” she admitted, her voice flat, rueful.
Avery reached over and linked her hand with Valencia’s. The gesture was tender and powerful and calming.
Valencia looked over at the American beauty with her big, dark blue eyes and jet black hair. The black cocktail dress set off the exquisite platinum and diamond necklace to perfection.
At twenty-two carats, it wasn’t the largest total weight necklace in the collection, but it was the most breathtaking. The crown jewel in Shimmer’s vault. It never failed to attract attention but Valencia had yet to find the right buyer for it.
“At least the rest of the party went well,” Avery said after several awkward moments. Normally she babbled away, filling the silence with easy going banter. But much had changed recently.
“It did. Thank you for displaying the diamond so beautifully.”
“Of course.” Then, “It’s my job.”
“You look lovely.”
“It’s the jewels,” Avery replied with a saucy wink.
“Indeed.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Avery had that magnetic sort of beauty that drew people in, which was the reason Valencia wanted her as a spokesmodel.
“The man without a mask…” Avery said, obviously fishing for a name to put with the face.
The handsome, ruthless face.
“Dameon LeBeau,” Valencia said. Did she sound as off kilter as she thought she did? Why did saying his name leave her the slightest bit breathless?
Maybe Avery wouldn’t notice.
“He has a lot of nerve showing up like that,” Avery said softly, her voice fierce. Luckily she was glancing out at the star filled sky and gently rolling waves so she didn’t notice the way Valencia pursed her lips and fought off another wave of tears.
Really, how weak could she be?
“He’s always been the type,” Valencia replied.
“Handsome,” Avery said gently.
“That he is.”
“Possessive.”
Valencia raised an eyebrow. “Show me an immortal who isn’t.”
“What does he want?”
“I have no idea.” He couldn’t really want to marry her. He was just saying that to throw her off balance. Otherwise he would have shown up long before now. No, he was here for some other reason.
Dameon did nothing without an agenda. She and her broken heart were the ultimate testament to that fact.
Avery twisted her torso toward Valencia. “But you’re curious.”
“Not in the least.”
“Really? You haven’t seen him in how long, he shows back up looking to die for and you’re not the least bit curious as to why he sought you out?”
“Non. Not the least,” Valencia lied. If she lied to herself enough maybe she’d start believing it.
“I’d be dying to know.”
“How’s Hunter?” Valencia asked, pointedly changing the subject. She pushed to her feet and paced back and forth in front of the window.
“He’d good. Frustrated. I took him back to Novgorod.”
Where he was the Beta of his werewolf Pack. And currently struggling to find a replacement so he could travel the world with Avery.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject,” Avery added as she stood.
“And you’re good enough to forgive me.”
She felt her friend’s gaze for a full minute before Avery strode into the kitchen and poured them each a glass of blood and Burgundy. The cocktail was perfect and never failed to sooth Valencia’s nerves.
Avery handed over the glass and leaned against the doorframe, once again staring out at the ocean.
“We’re worried about you.”
Avery didn’t need to expand. Valencia had seen that shared look of concern on all her friends’ faces tonight.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said, waving off Avery’s unease.
“Hunter asked me to move to Novgorod with him until he can find a new Beta.”
Valencia had expected as much, had known the wolf would take Avery away. But still, her footsteps faltered on the tile floor.
“Then you must go.” There was no question Avery would be with her mate.
“I don’t want you to be alone.”
Valencia didn’t want that either, but she wasn’t going to admit it. Her four closest friends, her coven, her family were all attached, mated, leaving the mansion she’d called home for almost one hundred years.
“I’ll come visit.” She offered Avery what she hoped was a reassuring smile and continued pacing. Avery moved toward the sofa.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She put the goblet on the coffee table and then tucked her legs beneath her, curling into the corner of the couch. Valencia recognized the gesture to mean that Avery was settling in.
Valencia sighed inwardly. She wanted to be alone and sort out the riot of emotions. Which was silly. There was nothing to sort out. She’d always known Dameon was alive somewhere on this planet.
“Now. Back to the man from your past—”
“I do not wish to talk about him.”
“He seems powerful,” Avery continued as if Valencia had not spoken.
“He is. Very powerful. Very rich.” He was the reason she’d distanced herself from her coven, her former life, even her former home.
“I heard he called you his wife.”
Valencia inclined her head. “We are bound. Similar to mated. Bindings are…intimate, the connection unparalleled.”
“And,” Avery prodded.
“And he was just reminding me of something he’d said…something I said a very long time ago.”
“You didn’t have a secret wedding, did you?” Avery sounded scandalized and thrilled at the same time. The outburst made Valencia smile. That was the Avery she knew and loved.
“Not exactly.” She thought about not telling the story, about saving her pride but Avery was her friend. A friend who wouldn’t judge her, a friend she could lean on. And besides, the other woman would pester her until she’d gotten every last juicy detail.
“We were at an old monastery one night and he took my hand and told me that he couldn’t wait to be my husband. That he already felt like he was married to me. I was so in love with him, Dieu.” She licked her lips and continued. “I told him I was already his wife, in his heart and mine. The rest was just cer
emonial.”
The long pause was uncharacteristic of Avery. But she didn’t disappoint with her words of wisdom. “Be careful, V.”
Valencia stopped pacing and turned toward her friend with a frown. Avery looked anxious and imploring, two things she normally was not. Did she know something Valencia did not?
No. Avery would tell her.
“It’s obvious he has some hold over you…some power.”
“His only power is that he can hide himself from me.” And then sneak up on her. That was most disconcerting but she wasn’t going to admit that either. If she did, Avery would know just how unsettled she really was. And what was scary was that she was so unused to being unsettled. She wasn’t exactly surprised; for the last hundred and fifty years she’d lived a quiet, sheltered life far away from the vampire elite.
“Hide himself?” Avery frowned.
Valencia gave a dismissive wave. “He can obviously hide our bond. Earlier tonight, I did not know he was even in the room until he was right behind me.”
“That’s not good.”
“No.” She started her pacing again. The fact that he could hide the bond between them, the fact that he could mask it so that she wasn’t aware of his presence, it was dangerous. She hadn’t even known it was possible, but then again, with Dameon, anything was possible.
She wouldn’t be surprised if he could fly. He was so chummy with the devil, after all.
“Well, the sooner you find out what he wants, the sooner you can be rid of him.”
Chapter Four
Avery met Coco, Izzy and Ceara at Club Daylight. The air was thick with the scent of spices and greasy French Fries. She took a deep breath, remembering when she’d been alive, able to consume the deep fried morsels.
As much as she loved her new life, her friends, Hunter…there were certain things, usually scents, that made her long for the old days.
The round corner booth was brimming with happy couples and Avery felt a pang in her heart that Hunter was missing. Not missing, but missing out.
“So what’s the deal with this guy?” Coco was saying.
Her mate, a big and obviously deadly werewolf named Grayson, shrugged his massive shoulders and then slipped an arm around Coco. “I’ll get rid of him if she wants.”
Coco playfully swatted his washboard abs. “Violence is prohibited on Mystic Isle. How many times does Latham have to tell you that?”
“We can make it look like an accident,” Maxim said.
Avery shot him a look. Hunter’s brother merely grinned at her.
“We’re joking, Avery.” He put down his beer bottle with a sigh. She knew that the situation with the Novgorod pack was stressing him and Hunter out. Stupid Beta trying to play king when Maxim was away. The young wolf didn’t understand that the Alpha was the top dog and the Beta was his right hand man.
Poor Hunter was stuck in the middle, feeling guilty for giving up his position as Beta so he could travel more freely and be with Avery. But at least he’d gone back and taught the pup a lesson.
He was Beta again and Avery didn’t mind. The Novgorod country was breathtakingly beautiful and she’d be by his side wherever he was.
But she also understood that both wolves were attached to vampires. Young vampires who couldn’t go out in daylight yet.
“Do you want me to go switch places with him? Ceara and I can go home until the wedding,” Maxim offered, his dark eyes studying her closely.
She was used to it. Both brothers had a way of ferreting out the truth no matter how much you tried to hide it.
Avery shook her head. “No. It’s fine. Just miss him is all.” She smiled at him and then Ceara, trying to reassure them that she really was okay with Hunter’s absence. Problem was, she wasn’t. It was like missing a fundamental part of herself. How was she going to manage wanting to be with her friends and her mate when they were thousands of miles apart?
Maxim seemed appeased for the moment though she had a feeling he could see right through her façade. He settled back and pulled Ceara into his arms. The public display of affection that followed didn’t raise a single eyebrow at the table.
“So what do you know about this guy?” Coco asked, her gaze settling on Avery.
Avery ordered a house cocktail from the waitress and then scooted closer to Coco.
“His name is Dameon LeBeau and they were super-hot and heavy back in the day,” she said, keeping her voice down. That was silly since most immortals had supersonic hearing, but old habits died hard.
Izzy crawled over Shade's lap to get closer to the juicy gossip. The demon didn't seem to mind; in fact, he copped a feel as his mate went by.
“He called her hiz wife,” Izzy said, twin blonde brows high on her angelic face. Evidently the group had been completely shocked when LeBeau had dropped that grenade in their camp. Rightly so.
“I knew there had to be a man in her past,” Coco said. “She's always been so closed lipped, but it makes sense.”
Avery and Izzy nodded. So much made sense now that they'd laid eyes on the guy who'd ripped out V's heart.
“I don't know all the details but evidently they're a bound pair. They were getting married. Their covens had betrothed them, even.”
Izzy let out a low whistle.
“Where'd you learn to do that?” Coco asked, clearly impressed.
Izzy shrugged, the white blonde hair shimmering beneath the heat lamps. “Shade taught me.”
“That's not all I taught her,” Shade inserted.
Coco sighed good-naturedly. “Go talk to him so he doesn't get bored. We girls have a mission to complete,” she said, pushing at Grayson's shoulder.
The big wolf didn't budge, merely turned gorgeous gray eyes from his plate to his mate and back again.
“I know, I know. You can eat over there,” she pointed around Izzy.
The gorgeous black vamp waved her best friend over Grayson's lap. As soon as Izzy was settled and Grayson once again had his ginormous steak in front of him, Coco turned to Avery.
“So what does he want?”
“To marry her.”
The masculine voice cut through the air, soft but clear.
The three of them glanced up to find Charles Latham standing at the edge of the table. They glanced at each other; there was always a hint of nervousness among them when Latham was around. He was an all seeing god, after all, not to mention the owner of Mystic Isle. What he said went. But he was a nice guy and had a surprisingly intimate friendship with V.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, indicating the empty space next to Avery.
“Mind if we grill you for information?” Coco asked in that self-assured way of hers.
Latham smiled as he folded his tall frame into the booth. Even though Avery was happily mated, she admired the god's grace and gorgeous blue eyes. He must spend time in the sun every day to keep that gorgeous tan.
“I do,” he answered, glancing at Avery for a moment. Him being in her head never failed to surprise her. He was always making cryptic comments like that.
He met Coco’s curiosity head on. “Dameon asked Valencia to marry him last night. That's why he's come to the island.”
“How do you know theese?” Izzy asked in her beautiful Russian accent.
Latham gave her the look.
“Oh. Of course,” she said softly and sank back against the padded bench.
“So that’s what he wants? To marry V? Why? If he’s had all this time.”
“The time is finally right.”
“For?” Grayson interjected.
Latham glanced at the werewolf. “Their past is complicated. There were things he had to take care of.”
“He should have been taking care of V,” Avery inserted, feeling a ravenous loyalty to her friend.
“You young vamps,” Latham said with sigh. “Things weren’t always so easy. Not between your species. Not even among the same species. The LeBeau and Fabelle families have centuries of bad blood between them. Very bad blo
od.”
“But he’s worked it out and thinks he can just sweep back into her life?” Coco asked. Clearly she and Avery were on the same page here.
Avery didn’t like the idea that this man who’d crushed V in the past was suddenly back, ready to just step into her life again.
“What if she’d been married?” Avery asked. “Or mated to someone else?”
Latham shook his head. “Impossible. Bound pairs are matched for life. She’s the only one who can bear him children. Besides—”
He sighed and glanced around as if he’d said too much.
“Do you think that’s what he’s after?” Avery asked Coco and Izzy. “Kids?”
“That would explain the timing,” Coco added.
“I thought you ladies would be interested in a little match making,” Latham said, clearly confused.
The three of them turned toward him. Coco elected herself to speak. “If he’s here because he genuinely can’t live another day without her, fine. We’re in. But if there’s any funny business—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll take him down,” Latham said. He glanced at Grayson and Shade. Ceara and Maxim had left minutes earlier. Latham’s lips curved upwards. “I’d help you.”
He’d help them put the smack down on Dameon LeBeau?
“I thought he was one of your big fishes,” Izzy said.
“Dameon’s an old friend, but so is Valencia. I don’t think we have anything to worry about it.”
For Dameon’s sake, Avery hoped Latham was right.
Chapter Five
Charles Latham glared down at the piece of paper in his hand. Though he was fluent in thirty six languages, the words on the page bled together until he couldn’t trust his eyes.
“What the hell is this?” He didn’t mean to thunder the words, didn’t intend for the lamp on his desk to quake at the ferocity of his tone. Nor did he expect his assistant, his wonderful, brilliant assistant to pull her shoulders down and back and stare at him head on.
She’d gotten past the cowering thing years ago, so he didn’t know why a shock of surprise at her defiance coursed through him now.
“Exactly what it says it is. My two weeks’ notice.”